The sands..

A Poem by Madison.

We have all the time in the world.

We create this time. We mold it.

We use it. We cherish it.

We wish it slow.

We wish it fast.

We forget.

This time is not our own.

She swallows the sand.

This time is not what she thought it was.

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Added on December 1, 2012
Last Updated on December 1, 2012

XII.

XI.